Letters
by thespeckledbrunette
Summary: Set Post-Reichenbach and Sherlock is writing letters to John, even though he knows he can never send them.
1. Chapter 1

John,

I'm so sorry. I wanted to tell you so badly that I wasn't leaving you. I didn't want to leave, but I didn't have a choice, it was that or I had to live without you. I could never live without you John, I would be lost. You're an exception to my rule, you're my friend. I couldn't bear it without you. I'd rather die than be without you, so that's what I did, I died.

I saw you the other day, you looked lost. I wanted to come over and tell you that you'll be ok, but I can't. You're not safe. You think you're the only one in pain; I'm the one who has to deal with the fact that I can't come to you and tell you it will be alright and that you're not alone. I can't just go back to 221B and sit in my chair. I can't watch you make my coffee in the mornings as I like it.

Life is impossibly hard. That phone call was the hardest and worst thing I've ever had to do in my life. To know that I was destroying you, and Mrs Hudson and Lestrade. It was so hard. I don't know how I did it, will you ever forgive me for ripping your heart apart, demolishing any hopes for you to have a happy future. I saw you at my grave a few days ago, the way you broke down as you said that you wished I was alive. It's the hardest thing to keep yourself from being able to see the one you love, to not even be able to tell them that it's ok, to hug them and dry their tears when they're broken.

You've changed my life John, and now I've changed yours for worse. I will fix you; I will be there for you. I'm always there for you; I'm here for you now. Even though you don't know it. I'll help you get back up.

I love you.

Sherlock.


	2. Chapter 2

Dear John,

I heard it was my funeral today. I bet you made it sound like I was hero. I've told you before. I'm not a hero John, don't make people into heroes. It's breaking me to know that you're lying in bed every night wishing I was alive, hoping that I'll be there for you when you wake up. Hoping it's all a dream. It's not, but I'm here you don't know it yet. I bet your leg hurts again, you'll be depending on your walking stick too much. I don't even have to be near you to know what's going on, but you're too predictable John. You need to buy some food and eat, just like you always tell me to. Go out the house, do something.

I feel so alone without you. I have nothing, no-one. I've never got so attached to one person John, and then to have them think I was dead. I'm so sorry. You don't realise how much I care about you. I didn't always show it, but you're my only friend, you're the one person I need in my life, to make me feel whole again. Now I've left you I have nothing. I have stuff to do, but I miss you. I miss the blog, and how you made the coffee, and how you reacted to the body parts, and how you commented on my deductions, and the way you'd yawn in the mornings. It's you I miss the most; it's killing me to not be able to tell you everything. I've wanted to hold you and tell it will all be alright so many times.

I've seen the work around London, convincing people to believe in me, and saying that Moriarty was real. The world doesn't know what happened, they don't understand why or what. I know you will but I can't face them. To know that they think I was a fake, and that I made it all up. You'll welcome me back, and that's because you're John. But the rest of the world won't accept the fact, they won't believe in me. I don't want to face them, I don't want to tell them the truth. I've grown to have feelings John, feelings I thought I'd never have. I love you and that's something that will never go away. You never really realise that you loved someone until they leave. And that's what's happened. I need to remember you to keep me going. You're the only thing that's making me hold on.

I love you John Watson. I never wanted to leave you. And I'm always here for you, even when you don't know.

Stay Strong and believe.

Sherlock.

P.S. Don't forget the milk.


End file.
